A black cab pulls up by the kerb, depositing a bunch of partygoers on a wet London pavement. But wait! These aren't any old late-night revellers. They have … ugh! Oh, beastly abhorrence! Oh foul affront to nature! They have the faces, the heads, of dogs. As if this wasn't already a vision from some torrid HP Lovecraft nightmare, things are about to get worse. The party they're crashing is entirely filled with – ack! – people with cat heads. And cats and dogs get on like … well, reach for the cliche of your choice. Luckily, the mutts have brought along an elixir to ease such a fractious meeting. No, not booze. The "bottle of togetherness" in question is J20, because when you want to make friends, you always reach for the non-alcoholic fruit juice.

Shortly after supping, the furry throng are engaged in an orgy of revelry. There is carousing. There are conversations, conducted in mews and woofs. A miniature schnauzer locks lips with a fluffy persian. It's a vision of beast-on-beast horror that would have snapped old Mr Lovecraft's fragile mind for good, but then he didn't grow up clicking refresh on I Can Haz Cheezburger?. The way we bang on about cute pups and kitties these days, they could flog us anything. We no longer fear the beast, we have infantilised it, and now it sells us fruity liquid by the four-pack. But what's this? The doorbell rings again. Eek! A mouse! With a box of J20! Lucky for him he didn't bring White Lightning, else I'd be laying down sticky traps pronto.